Blind
by Fortune Maiden
Summary: In any line of work, accidents can and will happen. A blinding injury pushes the trio to their limits, threatening the stability of their unit. Words are thrown, tears are shed, and blame gets pushed around as each copes in his own way...
1. Leanne

**A/N: In the wake of Project X Zone's release, I have discovered Resonance of Fate and so this story was born. I love the relationship between the three leads so this story is a bit of exploring their relations with each other as well as a couple of other characters (who I feel should have gotten more attention in the game) rather than a straight up action story. I set this story between chapters 6 and 7 so there are some spoilers for those events (though admittedly not that many, since this story is being narrated by people who don't like to talk about the past or know much about another character's past) Later chapters will reference things relating to the opening scene of the game though, so you've been warned.  
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**This story which will have 4 or 5 parts is probably the longest thing I have ever written, even though it's probably only going to be seen by like 3 people ^^" Admittedly I'm using this story as a guinea pig as well, but I'm proud of it, and if nothing else it will probably sit on the section's first page for a long time. **

**Disclaimer: Resonance of Fate is owned by Sega and no profit is being made from this story. I do this for fun!**

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**Blind**

_In any line of work, accidents can and will happen. That is a fact of life that has to be accepted. There is no one to blame, and no point in dwelling. There is only acceptance and learning. If only getting to that acceptance was as easy as getting into an accident._

**Part 1: -Leanne-**

Reading over the letter for what felt like hundredth time, Leanne nervously glanced around the Silver Canyon, her other hand firmly on the grip of her gun, ready to be pulled out and used as the sign of any movement. Her heart was pounding, her own nervousness ebbing away the canyon's cold. _So far so good_, she thought. There was only snow and rocks as far as the eye could see. No people, no monsters, no life. She knew that there would be a confrontation sooner or later, but she greatly preferred later. Preferably, much later.

Beside her, Zephyr was getting bored. He too was scouting the canyon, and being much louder about it, if only because he actually _wanted_ the rebels to appear and begin shooting. "The adrenaline will help me warm up," was the excuse he gave, but Leanne knew he was just eager to start fighting. That only added to Leanne's worries. Their mission did call for rebel extermination, but included in the letter was an order for reconnaissance. Somehow she didn't think they would get much intel on rebel activity if Zephyr blindly started shooting everyone and everything in sight. Though she did pointedly remind him of that several times on their way over from Ebel City, she just knew he would conveniently forget once his survival (or reckless) instinct kicked in. Vashyron told Zephyr before they left to follow Leanne's orders to the letter, but Vashyron's words meant little when he wasn't actually around to enforce them.

"This is just like all the rest," she assured herself, "Go in, see what they're up to, kill them, report back. It's simple." Except it wasn't like "all the rest." "All the rest" had Vashyron at the helm to coordinate Zephyr and Leanne for an effective strategy, ensuring that the mission was completed in a timely manner with little collateral damage. This time, she was in charge. With their great wise leader out with a migraine (or a hangover, as Zephyr insisted), all of the technicalities and responsibility fell to her. Zephyr could still shoot stuff; Leanne just had to make sure he didn't destroy anything important, or get himself killed. "Yeah," she sighed, "_Real_ simple."

"I hear something in that direction," Zephyr suddenly exclaimed, taking off without even giving her a chance to acknowledge his outburst. Leanne called out to him to futilely, running to catch up. The snow, though not particularly deep, heavily impeded her movements, especially compared to how Zephyr ran across it as though it were regular pavement. Sure he was a fast runner, but now he just seemed inhuman. Even with the extra layers of clothing (which Vashyron insisted they both wear after Leanne's getting sick after their first visit to the canyon) he just sprinted across the frozen wasteland, getting further and further away from her with each step.

"Don't you dare get started without me!" Leanne hissed, loud enough for him to hear (and hopefully _hear_) but soft enough for no other ears to pick up. Zephyr had great hearing. His listening skills were another story.

The cold wind blasted against Leanne's face as she ran, making her teeth chatter. She really hated the Silver Canyon. She hated the cold of Level 7 in general. It had never been that cold in Chandelier and Level 4 had fairly mild temperatures as well. Vashyron generally avoided taking jobs on Level 7 as well unless they were directly for a Cardinal or very quick and easy (or as "easy" as a hunter's job could be). Zephyr oddly enough, seemed to actually like the Silver Canyon (though he was vague on the reasons), yet he was always the first to start sulking when they descended on the second core elevator. Zephyr's mood swings were always common but Level 7 just made their spontaneity reach ridiculous levels. Even now, when he finally slowed down to let her catch up, he was giving her a withering look, the previous excitement completely gone. She ignored it.

"Thank you," Leanne remarked simply, before he raised a hand to quiet. He had stopped by a low cliff, and was glaring at something below. Suddenly, he dropped onto his stomach and was edging closer for a better view. His sub machinegun was already drawn. Leanne frowned and followed his example, readying her own gun. Already she could feel the adrenaline rush warm her up. _Bingo._

Below, in front of a storage cave (which Zephyr mentioned to be the chemist's closet that housed various medicines) stood a group of rebels, accompanied by several chilly dogs and a walker. The rebels stood in semicircle surrounding a large wooden crate, which they further surrounded with smaller boxes. Leanne quickly fished out the small camera in her pocket and prepared to snap a picture. The camera belonged to Vashyron, who had told her to take as many shots as she could so that she would be able to give Cardinal Barbarella a full report, with photographic proof.

"You'll need to know exactly what they're doing there," Vashyron told her, "Even if they're just there to steal Barbarella's wine, you'll have to prove it. Talk is cheap. Pictures aren't."

"Are they stealing meds?" Leanne whispered, hoping that the rebels would open the crate for her to take a picture of its contents. She wouldn't put it past them. If their mission was to disrupt Basel's stability, taking away the people's medicine was a good way to do it. Yet something wasn't adding up. There was no other place to store medicine long-term in Basel, and she really doubted that the rebels would actually destroy the stock. They needed it too didn't they? In the back of her mind she could vaguely recall something she had heard about cold temperatures once, but she couldn't place it. It didn't matter anyway. She wasn't being paid to assume; she was being paid to bring proof. The crate was too big for her and Zephyr to carry back, but they could bring pictures of its contents. And the rebels surrounding it.

_*Click*_ The sound of the camera's shutter echoed across the canyon. Leanne's eyes widened and she bit her lip as Zephyr looked at her steely. Too late. The dogs heard the camera and they started barking and growling in her direction. The rebels whipped out their guns, and spread out ready to shoot. The Walker was guided away from the crate towards the disturbance.

"Here we go," Zephyr smiled widely, jumping and unleashing a spray of bullets. Though he shot from a wide distance and the bullets rained in every direction, several found their way on the mark, splashing the white snow with red flecks of blood. Leanne suppressed a groan. That was the other thing she hated about fighting in the snow. She was no stranger to blood, and had never feared it, but it just looked so vibrant and _red _against the white backdrop.

She watched as Zephyr ran and jumped across the canyon, constantly bringing down a new clip of bullets. Leanne, for her part, conserved her ammo. Though they brought a lot, their supply was finite, so she focused on making every shot count. Zephyr was good as a distraction; his speed and acrobatics tended to throw off most adversaries long enough for Leanne and Vashyron to get the killing shots with their handguns and grenades. Zephyr didn't believe in slow and steady aiming. He really got his kicks scaring the crap out of his enemies by throwing bullets every which way. Only Vashyron's yelling at him to focus or Leanne finding herself in harm's way made him switch to more lethal tactics.

Fortunately, the way things were going, his strategy made for some good teamwork. Leanne had managed to take out the dogs and three of the rebels that Zephyr had injured. While it was never a good idea to think things were going well before they were done, Leanne really wanted to think that as she shot another rebel causing him to fall face forward, but it reality something was bothering her. From her position by the crate, using it as a cover, no one had even tried to take a shot at her. The dogs had tried to go after her, but she had taken care of them first, before they could even reach her. The walker had looked in her direction and was clearly going to fire but another rebel pulled its reins in the opposite direction and made it chase Zephyr. Since then, Zephyr had shot off its equipment, but it still hadn't made a move for her. Still, the heat of battle, when they were heavily outnumbered, was not the time to dwell on tactics. Leanne wasn't a tactician so she trusted that Zephyr would see them both victorious. She just had to make sure not to slow him down. If the enemies weren't shooting at her, that was a good thing. She needed to shoot them, before they shot Zephyr. So she did.

Though their fights always seemed to stretch on forever, it was over in a few minutes. It had been a complete and total slaughter on their end, with Leanne completely unhurt and Zephyr sporting a few minor superficial bullet grazes. He always moved too fast for anyone to aim at him properly. "That was fast," he was disappointed. Leanne suspected he still had plenty of ammo left, for he was never satisfied unless he used his last bullet (and even then he was only moderately satisfied). She walked through the bloodstained snow, disdainfully looking at all of the corpses, and checking for signs of life and any ammo that would fit their weapons. It was true that she could occasionally let slip a small smile after a successful battle (usually when she had been a decent help), but it just never got any easier, especially the looting. In the back of her mind, there was still something wrong, and that piece of info someone (Vashyron?) had once told her about the cold was beginning to get more nagging. _What am I forgetting?_

"This crate must be really important," Zephyr smirked, approaching the crate, ignoring the bodies lying near him, "Did you see how they immediately ran from it the moment they us? I bet they couldn't risk the contents getting damaged. Get your camera ready; I'll open it up."

_Was that it?_ Something about his words made her want to smack herself. Of course! That was why the walker had been steered away when it tried fire its guns. In her position, it could have hit the crate. Any stray bullet could have upset the contents. If that was medicine then…

…No it wasn't medicine. Something inside her knew that. The rebel mentality was to destroy what couldn't be saved if it made things worse for Basel's citizens. There had to be a reason why they refused to shoot the crate.

"_Why do you keep that stuff in the freezer anyway?" _

"_Arctic conditions are the best preservers. Heat makes it lose its potency, and we can't have that, can we?"_

"_No, I guess not."_

"Wait!" she called out. No, it wasn't medicine. The one conversation she had with Vashyron a long time ago when she unwittingly opened the freezer looking for ice, replayed in her head. She knew what it was now. It was so obvious. Why the rebels chose to make Silver Canyon their base. Why the rebels refused to shoot the crate. Before she could voice her realization to Zephyr though, there was movement out of the corner of her eye. As if the world had gone into slow motion, she watched in horror as the rebel that had been fallen onto his stomach slowly, but surely rolled something in the direction of the crate. There was no way to stop it. Zephyr's hands had just started lifting the cover when the rolling item hit the side. Leanne was sure she had yelled for Zephyr to get back as the world around them exploded.


	2. Vashyron

**A/N: So here's Part 2. It's became a little more spoilery after editing, so you've been warned. I'm pleasantly surprised by how many hits the first chapter got, so thank you to all who took the time to click on this story ^^ I would really like to know what you all think (and I do appreciate criticism, and grammar policing (I can't catch everything)) so if you have a minute, please leave a review.**

**Incidentally, I finished reading RoF's namesake this morning, and I finally get how Asimov's The End of Eternity applies to this game. This really opens up so many possibilities for RoF stories, and is a really good book in general, so I strongly recommend it.**

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**Part 2: -Vashyron-**

Vashyron let out a loud groan as the world around him came into focus. The pounding in his head had settled into a quiet dull ache as opposed to loud painful nauseating banging of the morning, but it just wasn't clearing away. Until his employees walked through the door announcing the completion of their job, he supposed it would never go away. A glance at the clock said it almost dinner time. Provided everything was going well, they were probably reporting to the voluptuous Barbarella now, and would be home within the hour.

But who was he kidding? From the moment the two kids set out, a persistent feeling that the disaster was only a few levels down had crept inside his head intensifying the pain. He had really been opposed to their taking the job without him. He said so in no uncertain terms. Repeatedly. Unfortunately, there were too many factors working against him.

The first and most prominent, was Zephyr, who was just an ass when he wanted to be and _loudly_ protested Vashyron's orders (and Leanne's quieter, _but still too damn loud_ scolding for Zephyr to shut up didn't help). It was clear to Vashyron that if he wanted any peace and quiet for his headache, he would need Zephyr out of the house. (Preferably with Leanne, if only because Vashyron didn't particularly care for her inevitable hovering but didn't want to hurt her feelings. He did appreciate her concern and kindness, especially against Zephyr's antagonism, but he took care of himself. Always had, always would.) His first order had been for Zephyr and Leanne to take on some other mission. A quick trip to the guild revealed that the only jobs available were trivial deliveries up that, in Zephyr's words, "paid peanuts." Even though Leanne seemed perfectly fine with those, and had tried her best to convince Zephyr otherwise, his stubborn mind was made up, and he was not going to be some errand boy. Jobs that didn't require shooting stuff bored Zephyr (they bored Vashyron a bit too, but he definitely preferred them to killing).

Vashyron had then tried to steer him to the arena ("You'll get to shoot stuff there as much as you want") but then the other factor working against him kicked in. The job request was from Barbarella, who, as Zephyr gleefully reminded, was still miffed about his switching the wine labels. Vashyron had worked too hard to establish his credibility with the Cardinals and that one incident had proven to be enough of a blow to his reputation. If Barbarella was personally calling on him of all people to take on a job, he was in a really bad position to refuse.

And then, of course, came the inevitable "I'll prove myself to you" from Zephyr. He knew it was coming and he knew then and there that Zephyr was going to Silver Canyon regardless of what anyone said. If Vashyron had been feeling better, he would have knocked Zephyr down a few pegs, but he had been barely able to open his eyes, let alone sit up. So he had been forced to play damage control and put Leanne in charge of the mission.

Vashyron cared about Zephyr, he really did. He did adopt the kid as a partner despite his past, but he just didn't trust Zephyr alone on a job. The kid was prone to recklessness (and Level 7 was definitely a dangerous place for his stability) and Vashyron highly doubted there would _be _a Silver Canyon if Zephyr had been set free there with a gun and a bunch of rebels. The kid needed to be on a leash; one that was long enough for him to run around and have his fun, but short enough to be effectively yanked back before he did something stupid. Leanne would have to do in this case.

Everyone could see the effect the young woman had on Zephyr. She was definitely the one person that Zephyr consistently showed compassion for, and Vashyron, a firm believer in positive reinforcement, was not above using Leanne to keep him grounded. Zephyr didn't really care what Vashyron thought of him, but he did care about Leanne's thoughts. He was also very protective of her. Exposing her to a little danger was the most effective way to get Zephyr to stop screwing with enemies, and start taking them out.

Vashyron did worry about sending Leanne to Silver Canyon too of course. Responsible as she was, she wasn't a former soldier or an enhanced human, and he didn't like putting her in harm's way. He didn't fancy her getting sick from Level 7's harsh climate again either. But if Zephyr was going to insist on taking the job, Leanne was coming along. That was a direct order.

He had given them all the advice he could, put all his faith in their skills, but he was still worried. Even though he spent most of the day sleeping off his migraine, the time could not go by any slower. There were so many disastrous scenarios that could have occurred, that every time he awoke, in varying levels of pain, Vashyron was seriously tempted to put on his snow gear and go down to Level 7.

Now the headache was finally down to a manageable level, but it was too late to go catch up to them. If they weren't done yet, they had to be mostly done, since it wasn't likely that either of them wanted to be on Level 7 when the sun went down and the temperature dropped even further.

Waiting around was a terrible thing. Vashyron was glad that he could finally move around pain-free since it gave him the freedom to pace around the living room. So many times his eyes drifted to his beloved cabinet but the unpleasant reminder that the pills he took hadn't worn off yet kept the urges at bay. He didn't feel like spending another day with a headache either, especially when this one was proving to be a nightmare.

As the time refused to go by quicker, Vashyron settled on switching on the television. If nothing else, perhaps an enticing scene about to get really enticing would spur his protégés home faster, if only to interrupt him. After flipping through the ten or so channels, he finally settled on what seemed like a typical nighttime soap opera, about the drama that plagued a typical Chandelier family. It wasn't his ideal entertainment, but he did like the naivety of shows like this. It was comforting that there were people, even if they were fictional, who could live unaffected by the problems of the lower levels and Basel as a whole. It was also kinda nice that he could watch this cheesy stuff without Zephyr getting angry and Leanne getting depressed…could they hurry up and interrupt him already?

Vashyron heard them coming before they even reached Sweet Home. The eldest daughter was just about to announce her elopement to the young merchant of Ebel to her family, when that cold sinking feeling returned. Somehow he could sense that Zephyr and Leanne were close, and in trouble. He had developed a sixth sense for that long ago (he always, _always_ knew when one of them was awake in the middle of the night because of bad dreams) but it had never hit him so strongly. He turned off the TV. The smell of burnt flesh entered his nostrils just as the front door opened and he took in the full sight of his employees.

Leanne was shaking, pale and frantic. Her clothes were wet and dirty, there was a large bruise on her right temple, numerous small cuts and her makeup was ruined. Tears were still streaming down her face and her breathing was hitched. She was the good half of the pair. Zephyr's appearance was the real problem.

He was hunched over, one arm around Leanne for support (with her doing her best to hold him up) and the other hand holding a wet handkerchief over his eyes. Like Leanne, his clothes were a wet mess, and there were numerous cuts on his body, including a large gash on his shoulder and a bleeding lip, but it was the handkerchief that alarmed Vashyron. Even from his position, he could see red splotches around Zephyr's eyes.

Oh yeah. This was really bad.

"What happened?" he demanded, moving to take Zephyr from Leanne, and to the couch for immediate treatment. Leanne let him take him and began rapidly saying so many things at once that Vashyron was only able to glean a few key works. But the words he did hear,

"Crate. Gunpowder. Explosion. _Blind,_"

Told him all he needed to know.

"I'll take him to wash his eyes out. Leanne, get out of those wet clothes and bring up the first aid kit to his room," he ordered, dropping all pretense of a bedside manner. He had to work fast, and he would need maximum cooperation and minimum crying. Zephyr was like a limp rag doll in his arms, letting himself get dragged to the kitchen sink, and that worried Vashyron even more than the blinding injury. If he wasn't protesting or complaining, then it was clear that he was in a lot of pain, and his rapid uneven breathing revealed that he was teetering on the edge of panic. Panic was the last thing any of them needed right now.

Zephyr didn't take to the water well. As soon as Vashyron moved to take the cloth he held to his eyes, Zephyr screamed. His voice was raspy, telling Vashyron that he had been screaming in pain before, but he could deal with it. Leanne had momentarily frozen when he cried out, but recovered quickly enough, which made Vashyron briefly wonder how she had dragged Zephyr back all the way from Silver Canyon, with a hint of awe. He would get the full story later. Right now, he had other priorities.

"Zephyr, you have to wash your eyes out. This is going to hurt, but you're going to have to bear it. Are you going to do it or am I?" He turned on the water and let it run giving Zephyr a moment to decide before the teen shakily ran his hand under it and pressed the wet palm to his eyes. Very slowly. Vashyron sighed and pushed Zephyr closer to the sink and began scrubbing his eyes with the cold water himself. He tried to be gentle but he could only imagine the sort of pain that accompanied cold water on retina burns as Zephyr cursed and struggled under his tight grip. Vashyron was nothing if not thorough. He calmly and rationally explained to Zephyr that he had to get out any residue gunpowder or foreign objects that could have entered his eyes in the split second of the explosion. He added that there was no shame in crying or screaming, which Zephyr must have heard since he was quite loud and colorful in his attempts to get free.

Vashyron kept scrubbing for a good ten minutes, during which Zephyr attempted to punch him, bite him, and kick him none of which he actually had the strength (or accuracy) for. He finally pushed away when the water was turned off leaning against the wall and covering his eyes with his cold soaked sleeve. Vashyron sighed and reached for the handkerchief (which he noticed Leanne had filled with snow, some of which had yet to melt), handing it back to Zephyr, who just let out a strangled groan and replaced his sleeve with it. His breath was getting shallower, and his shivering worse.

"Get up," Vashyron ordered, "I'll take you to your room." Zephyr didn't protest this and stumbled along, even letting Vashyron guide him up the stairs. That had gone well. The next step didn't.

Vashyron's first order of business after setting Zephyr on his bed was to strip the teen out of his wet clothes and assess the entirety of the damage for himself. It had not been easy since Zephyr violently refused to remove the handkerchief from his eyes a second time, thus making it difficult to take his jacket and shirt off. The ensuing struggle wore on Vashyron's already thin patience, but he was finally able to get Zephyr to cooperate by keeping the cold cloth pressed himself while Zephyr clumsily undressed himself.

The other wounds he had sustained really were all small and insignificant, and even the large gash had closed on its own (though Vashyron made a mental note to put a disinfectant on it later, just in case). Leanne had stood frozen with the first aid kit, now dressed in her pig shirt, and was frantically assuring Zephyr that he would be alright. Vashyron held back pointing out that it was hard to be reassuring when the one talking was clearly panicking herself. He rummaged through their supplies, pulling out bandages, cooling salves, and everything that looked like it would be useful.

"Leanne, be quiet for a minute will you?" he snapped, shutting her up and causing Zephyr to tense in his hold. He didn't say anything but the implication was clear. Forcing himself to calm down, Vashyron began again, "Zephyr, I just want to see your eyes. I'll judge if you're okay. Leanne's my witness," he looked at her and she nodded, before amending her nod into a vocal "yes." "There is nothing in my hand right now. I'm just going to look. On the count of three, remove the cloth, okay? One…two…" The moment he said three, he yanked Zephyr's wrist, quickly snatching the wet cloth and passing it to Leanne with a sharp "hold that," as Zephyr blindly grasped at the air trying to get it back.

"Hold still," Vashyron grabbed his chin to try and steady him as Leanne nervously reached out, unsure if she should help restrain him. From what Vashyron could see, the damage to Zephyr's eyes was mostly superficial. The skin around them was burned, but not too badly. His eyes were closed, despite Vashyron's prodding him to open them.

"He opened them for a few seconds back at the Canyon but he said it was dark," Leanne explained. That didn't tell him anything.

"Zephyr, I can't help you if you don't cooperate with me. You have to open your eyes so I can see how you react to light. Just five seconds, you can do it." Zephyr muttered something under his breath, but he complied, his blue eyes staring directly into Vashyron's eyes, yet not actually looking at them. No reaction to the light at all. But aside from the redness that was likely from the earlier scrubbing, they didn't look damaged. Vashyron let out the breath he was holding.

"Okay, this doesn't look as bad as I thought," he said calmly, "Most likely this is just a bad case of flash blindness from being so close to the explosion when it went off."

"It _hurts_," Zephyr scowled, just loud enough for Vashyron to hear him. He didn't sound too panicky anymore, which was a good sign. His breathing was slowly starting to even out too. He would be fine.

"Are you sure?" Leanne asked clutching the handkerchief.

"No, I'm not," Vashyron admitted, "I'll take him to a doctor in the morning, but for now it seems that the damage looks worse than it is. The blindness shouldn't last more than a few days."

"He was in so much pain though."

"Yeah, eye injuries are like that. Zephyr, I'm going to apply a cooling salve around your eyes and then bandage them."

"I'll do it," he muttered.

"No, you won't," Vashyron quipped, grateful that Zephyr just left it at that. "Now, Leanne, I'm sure you've calmed down enough. Start from the beginning. What happened?"

As Vashyron slowly rubbed the cooling salve around Zephyr's eyes, Leanne recounted their adventure, much slower this time. Vashyron listened closely, commenting on occasion but for the most part just focusing on his patient. For the most part there wasn't anything in Leanne's account that he would done differently, including setting the camera off by mistake. Even though that detail did irritate him, all it did was start the battle earlier than it should have. It wasn't until she got to the part when Zephyr approached the crate that he interrupted.

"Why didn't you check the corpses first?" he demanded angrily.

"I-I was!" Leanne stuttered.

"Not you, Zephyr. How many times have I told you to always check for life before doing anything?"

"Shut up," Zephyr hissed.

"No, I won't shut up. I've said it a thousand times. The body you don't check is the one that shoots you in the back. Or in your case, detonates a crate of _gunpowder_ while you're standing next to it. Do you ever think before you act?"

"V-Vash—

"I get it. I messed up," Zephyr snapped, flinching slightly and reaching for his eyes only for Vashyron to smack his hand away.

"I don't think you do. You're like a goddamn infant. If I'm not there watching your ass every second, shit like this happens."

"Um…"

"Well you weren't there, were you?" Zephyr was getting louder. He swatted Vashyron's hand away and forced his eyes open briefly. "You weren't there because you were busy nursing a hangover. Some responsible adult you are!"

"Watch your mouth Zephyr," Vashyron warned him as he reached for the bandages, "I told you a dozen times not to take this job. _You_ insisted that you could do it, and I placed my trust in you. My mistake."

"Guys please—

"I did the job. The rebels are gone, and their stores in the Silver Canyon are history."

"Yeah, along with the entrance to the chemist's closet, the evidence you were supposed to bring, _and your eyesight_."

"You said this was temporary."

"I said it was most likely temporary. Learn to listen, damn it!"

"I am listening!"

"Are you? Could've fooled me."

"Shut up!"

"Zephyr! Vashyron!"

"No, you are going to listen whether you want to hear it or not. Never mind for a second that you messed up the job you were so insistent on taking, which is a whole other story. When are you going to learn to take care of yourself? Just because you can shake off most things easily doesn't mean you're invincible. You and Leanne could have _both_ been killed in that blast!" He could hear Leanne let out an angry huff and storm out of the room, but he ignored it.

"You'd like that wouldn't you," Zephyr's voice had an icy glee in it, "Then you could go back to drinking all you want and sleeping with every woman in Basel." Vashyron froze for a second mid-wrap and gave Zephyr a hard look, forgetting for a minute that Zephyr couldn't actually see it.

"Zephyr," he replied evenly, "I get that you are in a lot of pain right now. So I'm going to give you a fair warning to _stop_ before you say something you will regret."

"No, I'm not going to stop. You are a drunkard and a womanizer. You don't care about me and Leanne at all. You only keep us around because you can take on better paying jobs to pay for your pleasures."

"Zephyr—

"That mess with Barbarella? You just couldn't resist stealing her vintage wine. I'm sure it was worth it when that damn swill kept you from taking on that woman's next assignment."

"For the last time—

"_You weren't hungover?_" Zephyr sneered, "Don't feed me that bull. I could hear you opening your cabinet in the middle of the night and pouring a glass. And this morning, I could _see_ that _that_ bottle was nearly empty. And my nose is sharper than yours. I recognize thinly concealed alcohol when I smell it." Vashyron thought he heard Leanne climb back up the stairs but he was too focused on not punching out a blind kid so he ignored it. He just needed to finish bandaging Zephyr's eyes and get out as fast as possible. This wasn't going to end well and he could feel his headache resurface with vengeance. Provoking Zephyr in that weakened frightened state hadn't been a good idea. Pain just shot reason to hell.

"You know what!" Zephyr shoved Vashyron away as soon as the bandage was secure. "I hope this _is_ permanent. _Because I never want to see your face again!_"

There it was. He knew that final punch was coming, but it stung all the same. Before he could reply though, a voice behind him spoke up. Loudly.

"SHUT UP ALREADY, YOU STUPID IDIOTS!"

And was promptly followed by the sound of two metal pans being smacked together repeatedly like cymbals, as loudly as possible. Vashyron jumped around startled and Zephyr recoiled clutching his ears. In the doorway stood Leanne, a frying pan in her left hand, and a small pot in her right. Fresh tears were again flowing from her eyes as she glared at the two of them, shaking in barely repressed fury. Well, she definitely had their attention now.

"I can't believe you two! You!" she pointed the frying pan at Vashyron. "I get that we messed up badly and you were worried. But there is a time and place for going over our mistakes and that time isn't now!" Then she turned the pan towards Zephyr. Somehow he realized he was being addressed from that gesture alone.

"And as for you! I'm sorry that you were hurt. If I had shot that guy dead the first time this wouldn't have happened, so if you really want to blame someone, blame me! But I think both of you idiots need to realize that this. Was. An. _Accident_. It could have happened even if Vashyron was there, so _grow up already_!" For a crying woman wielding kitchenware in a pig shirt, she managed to sound very threatening. Vashyron was impressed.

Leanne glared at them for a few more seconds, letting the words sink in, before she stomped out of the room slamming the door behind her. Vashyron and Zephyr just listened in stunned silence as the sound of heels heading downstairs was followed by the clanging of pans being thrown onto the counter and then further followed by the slamming of the front door. For a few moments, they stood frozen as though they expected Leanne to return. She had every right to be upset. It had been a long hard day for everyone that had just culminated into a disaster of epic proportions. They never fought like that. They argued, sure, and Zephyr could be very aggressive when in a bad mood, but aside for the day Vashyron knew to leave him alone, he always avoided crossing any unspoken lines, even at his worst.

He glanced over at Zephyr who had completely retreated into the comfort of his bed, curling into a ball under his blanket, facing the wall. Vashyron sighed and picked up the first aid kit. He took out a few things and set them on the nightstand. "I'm leaving you a painkiller on the counter. I know you can dry swallow pills so just take it. Also I'm putting an antibiotic cream for your arm. Apply it yourself," he explained quietly not looking at Zephyr, "Just go to sleep, okay? And don't pick at the bandage." Zephyr moaned in acknowledgement but made no move to touch the medicine. Whatever. Vashyron knew he would take it when the pain got too bad.

Unlike Leanne who slammed the door when she left, Vashyron opted to just quietly close it. Yes, he was angry too, but he was too exhausted to fight anymore. As soon as he came downstairs, he took note that Leanne's coat was gone, but he wasn't worried. She would go cool off her head and come back when she was tired. Vashyron reached for the lock on his liquor cabinet and had just unlocked it when Zephyr's words echoed in his head. Words that were said in pain and fear; words that Zephyr would later give him a shy meek look for in place of an apology, but true words nonetheless. He shut the lock. The painkiller he took had probably worn off already but why risk it?

His hands were shaking. He really let Zephyr get to him. The teen often said things without thinking, and Vashyron had been insulted by him so many times that he had learned to take Zephyr's words as terms of endearment rather than actual insults, because most the time, that was what they actually were. This time though, there was no reinterpreting anything. Zephyr had meant it as he said it, and he was right. About some things.

Vashyron shouldn't have let them take the job. And he should have been there been with them. Those kids were his responsibility and he wouldn't have traded them for all the booze and women in Basel. Vashyron liked to think he drank responsibly, but this time he _did_ let the liquor interfere with his job. The side effects left him hot tempered and impatient. He made Leanne cry and pushed Zephyr over the edge. He recalled Zephyr's pained cries when he was washing out his eyes. Vashyron didn't even care. He didn't try to be reassuring at all. He only did what he had to do with no regard for Zephyr's comfort or fear at all. Zephyr wasn't an experienced soldier on the battlefield. At that moment he hadn't even been a repentant murderer. He was a troubled _teenager_ who had been _blinded_.

Vashyron gave one last long look at his cabinet before sighing and grabbing the phone. He dialed the only number he knew by heart and when the recipient answered said,

"Good evening, this is Vashyron. I'm sorry to call you at this hour…No, actually I'm not alright. There was an accident and I just really need some company. Can we please meet? Thank you, I'll be right up." He set down the phone, thanking some deity for the larger fortunes in his life. He grabbed his coat off the couch and left.

He was going to Chandelier.

* * *

**Parts 3 and 4 may be a little delayed because I'm leaving for Europe in August and they need a lot of editing. I'll try to get at least Part 3 up before the end of the month though.  
**


	3. Cardinals

**Okay, Part 3 ended up being delayed a bit, because editing it was a complete nightmare. About 4 pages worth of text were entirely cut, and some parts were changed completely (which resulted in a completely different headache when tying the 3rd scene with the final scene) I'm still not fully satisfied with the end result. I don't normally write stories like this (I think this is more of a character study at this point) so I'm probably never going to be happy with the end result ^^"  
**

**I really have to say though, playing through RoF, there is seriously so much fanfic fodder. This game may have its shortcomings, but the way the world of Basel is developed leaves so much to the imagination. NPC lines from Chapter 11 alone gave me at least 3 new ideas. _NPCs_ have the potential to be developed characters! I want to write more stories about Albona and pre-Bedeviled Cranktown. And comedies (since I'd like to think those are my specialty ^^") "This game needs more love" doesn't begin to cover how much more attention it deserves!**

**Well anyway, Thank you to those who reviewed and added this story to their alerts. ^^ I would love to hear feedback on this chapter.  
**

* * *

**Part 3: -Cardinals-**

After a hard day's work, there was nothing like returning to comfort of one's home for an extravagant meal and a nice shoulder rub from a kind, hardworking maids. Cardinal Pater was one to enjoy the luxuries of his station. However, he wasn't one to sit idly on them. Patertopolis's restoration came first, and if that entailed him going down to Level 6 everyday to both oversee and physically partake in the project, then he was honored to do so. It made every meal that much more filling.

Patertopolis's restoration was finally making progress and he was eager to see the city breath new life. He had only been a boy when the plague wiped it out, but he remembered his father's horror at the news and fervent drive to fix it. The man worked himself to an early grave, but Pater was quick to take the reins. He had his quartz to see that he would live to Patertopolis's reopening, and he would make every day count. It was more than a symbol of hope that Basel would survive. It was his life's purpose.

_Still_, he thought as he stepped off Core Elevator 1, _it's been a while since I saw Zephyr and Miss Leanne_. Zephyr was the one friend he had that didn't care about his station. He was a little rude and violent sometimes, but it was a refreshing change from everyone's excessive formality. And Leanne…

Leanne's smile was a shining quartz full of life and fortune. Thoughts of the beautiful young woman often consumed Pater's mind. In the middle of work, he would think of the day he would finally show her his restored city, urging him to work harder. In his art, Leanne played the subject in many of his works, directly or indirectly. In his friendship with Zephyr, she played the role of a uniting force…it had been Pater's failed attempts at talking to her that led Zephyr to one day smack him and tell him to grow a spine starting their rather strange but genuine friendship.

It was funny how every little thing reminded Pater of Leanne sometimes. As he walked along the hexes of Chandelier that led to his manor, he caught sight of a blonde young woman in a blue and white jacket, almost identical to Miss Leanne's, standing near the edge of the Level staring at the dark sky.

…_Wait a minute_…

"M-Miss Leanne?" Pater stammered causing the woman to turn around confirming that it was, in fact, her. What was she doing in Chandelier alone, so close to his home? Vashyron and Zephyr didn't seem be around, causing Pater's heart to skip a beat. C-could she have come to…

"Cardinal Pater," she replied with a slight nod, sounding tired and hollow, pushing away Pater's previous thoughts. At a second glance, she didn't look so good. Her jacket had been thrown on haphazardly; it was matted and unbuttoned revealing a long white T-shirt with the image of a pig underneath, and her eyes were red and puffy, highlighting the paleness of her face. She had been crying, Pater could tell. And on her temple was a large, black—

"Miss Leanne, you're hurt!" Pater cried out alarmed pointing at the bruise. A puzzled look crossed her features for a moment before she seemed to remember it and reached for the bruise mechanically.

"Oh right," she muttered woodenly more to herself, than Pater, "That must have been from Zephyr—

"_Zephyr_ did that to you?"

"It was an accident!" she snapped defensively then realizing how she spoke took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but he didn't do it on purpose…he didn't know what was happening at the time. It's my fault for being so careless!" She bit her lip as if debating whether or not she should say anything more. Pater just stared at her mouth wide open. If that didn't sound like a defense against domestic abuse, then he weighed 90 pounds.

Leanne probably realized how it sounded as well. "It really was an accident," she let out a small laugh that was so pained and hollow that tears sprang to her eyes, "I guess its okay to tell you. He got hurt during today's mission and when I ran to check on him he was in shock and lashed out, thinking I was an enemy. See? It really was an accident." Pater wasn't entirely convinced but it was clear to him that there was more to the story.

"Is Zephyr okay?" Innocent as he intended his words to be, it was clear that they triggered a flood of bad memories for Leanne as her tears started falling and she covered her face in a vain attempt not to cry. "M-miss Leanne?" Pater's paled as he thought of his friend injured in a clearly serious way.

"I'm sorry," she breathed out shakily, "I just cant… I don't know. Vashyron said it might be temporary but he's not sure and…ugh…"

"What's temporary?"

"Oh right…there was this crate that exploded in front of him, and he can't see anything. He's _blind_, Pater!" Oh. A mental image of Zephyr lying on his side covering his eyes in pain flashed in Pater's head. "And now he and Vashyron are blaming each other even though I'm the one who…" she didn't finish the sentence. Whatever it was, it did help her to compose herself. She crossed her arms in an attempt to warm herself up.

"I'm really sorry Cardinal Pater," she said slowly, "I didn't mean to burden you with this. I came up here to get away from their fighting and clear my head. As Zephyr's friend I just thought you should know what happened." Pater shook his head.

"No, it's no burden!" He was always willing to be included in the hunters' lives. More importantly, he did care about Zephyr, and was already thinking up ways to help. He took in her disheveled appearance one last time.

"Miss Leanne, you're not planning to go back yet are you?" It wasn't a question.

"No." She lowered her gaze. "I thought about going to the arena, but I figured Vashyron would want to go there and I didn't want to run into him."

In another setting, he would have been a nervous wreck for daring to be so bold, but now he needed to be an unwavering pillar of strength for her. So there was no hitch in his voice when he said, "Would you like to join me in my mansion?" She looked as surprised as Pater felt at his boldness, but he found himself unable to stop his mouth. "I'd like to hear about what happened. I'm a good listener, and I'll help however I can and…" he finally trailed off when her face warmed into a smile. It wasn't her shining quartz smile, but it was still dazzling.

"Yes, thank you."

* * *

"It sounds to me like you really messed up this time," Cardinal Theresa was a kind, patient woman but she was not one to mince words or lie to make someone feel better. When Vashyron had called her in obvious distress, she was more than willing to let him into the comfort of her mansion to hear him out. When he showed up, she met him in her study where tea has been set out for them and listened carefully to all that had happened. She cared about Vashyron, her late husband's closest friend, and the two children in his care and would do anything within her power for him. She would not comfort him though.

"Blunt, but I needed to hear that," Vashyron agreed with a sigh, "Any other words of wisdom you'd care to impart?" He said it sarcastically but Theresa knew that this was his way of hiding his insecurity. He did place high value in her words and even if he argued with her, she knew he would follow her words to the letter later.

"You will need to apologize obviously," she pointed out, "to both of them. But…" Vashyron wasn't at fault for this situation. Surely he knew that!

"If you're going to say that it could have happened anyway—

"I am not." She cut him off gently, "Maybe it might have. Maybe it would have been you instead. That is not important right now. I have a question for you, Vashyron. Are _you_ alright?"

"What?"

"You haven't come to me for help in years."

"Yeah, well, I would have gone to the arena, but I figured Leanne went there, and I don't want to face her right now."

"My…" Theresa shook her head, "how childish." Vashyron just shrugged.

"Yeah, probably. But somehow, I don't think riddling a target full of holes is what I need right now."

"The gunshots would agitate your headache."

"That too." As if mentioning it was a stimulus, Vashyron started rubbing his temples. "I've really done it this time."

"Vashyron?"

"I _was_ drinking last night," he scowled, "_I_ don't think I had a lot, but that's just my memory. Zephyr's the one convinced I had too much and the more he says it, the more I start believing him."

"Does it really matter whether your headache was a genuine migraine or induced from your drinking?" Theresa sighed and braced herself for another bout of self-pity. For all of his professionalism on the job, Vashyron was an absolute wreck outside of it. He just didn't handle things taking a bad turn

"Of course it does! If I was sick than there was nothing that could have been done, but if I was hungover—

"_It's my fault Zephyr is blind because I should have been there,_ right?" Vashyron's just nodded shamefully. "Really, Vashyron, you are just making excuses now." He looked at her. _My, _Theresa thought with a hint of partiality, _for such a hardened soldier, you really are so childish sometimes_. Her face softened.

"I am sorry that the bo—_Zephyr_ was hurt while you were incapacitated, but really now! It's your fault because you let yourself get a little carried away one night? I know you, Vashyron. You don't just start drinking in the middle of the night, however little, because you can. It's how you cope, right?" He looked embarrassed by the thought, but didn't deny it.

There was no point in denying it to her. She knew him beyond the jovial carefree front he showed everyone, including his own teammates. He was a troubled man who still didn't know how or why he survived the Lucia excavation, and spent every moment distracting himself with work and pleasure to avoid thinking about it. How often had she seen him with the same lonely expression in the past? That expression that had him convinced he _was_ crazy for remembering something that couldn't have happened (at least not to _him,_ were the doctor's exact words) and drove him away from a promising military career or a decent retirement in Chandelier for the thankless, shady job of a Hunter.

Theresa had familiarized herself with that lonely look during the aftermath of Lucia, and how it had only grown worse the more he tried to talk to people, and had them convince him that he was wrong. Victor had told her long ago that there were some things that could be shared. She hadn't understood then, but as Vashyron retreated further and further away from other people, it began to make sense. He probably only let her see his true self because she had already seen him at his worst and didn't laugh. He wouldn't take that chance with anyone else, Theresa knew that.

"There's no shame in it," She told him softly after a lengthy pause.

"A hunter always has to be prepared," Vashyron countered bitterly. Yes, yes, that.

"A hunter has to remember that he is human too." Vashyron gave her a strange look, before suddenly bursting out laughing. It wasn't a bad hollow laugh suggesting some sort of pain. It was a genuine loud chortle that one would normally let out after hearing the punch line to a truly good joke. Whether he had found her words that funny or had simply gone insane, Theresa did not know. He didn't explain himself after calming down, but there was a clear transformation of the self-pitying weary hunter. It was subtle, but there was a shift in his slouching posture from defeat to comfort.

"I'll have to remember that one," Vashyron mused.

"Be sure that you do," Theresa replied sagely.

* * *

"Does…does this kind of thing happen often?" was the only thing Pater could think to say when Leanne finished her story. When he brought her to his parlor, she had curled up on one of the armchairs, reluctant to talk. At first, she only glossed over the events, but when she had reached the part about coming home with Zephyr in tow, she had paused and then ran her mouth, animatedly describing the chaotic scene in such detail that Pater could visualize it clearly. It definitely brought a new perspective to Zephyr and Vashyron, one he wasn't sure he really liked. The two hunters in Leanne's story bore little resemblance to the ones he knew. "Them fighting, I mean."

"In a way," she sighed, "Zephyr likes to do things his way, with little regard to his surroundings, so Vashyron often had to keep him in line which irritates them both to no end, so they're always arguing. But it's usually…" she searched for a word, "_playful_. Kinda like they're brothers just having a light squabble. Last time they argued over how to properly wash the dishes, for crying out loud." It didn't really sound like something worth arguing over to Pater, who admittedly never washed a dish in his life, but he kept mum.

"This time though…Vashyron has his point, but he's never been so angry before. And Zephyr…I don't even know what to think about him." Pater had seen this kind of scenario in books and movies before, but he never thought such a thing could happen in real life. He always had a warm relationship with his family, short-lived as it was, and everyone he knew always seemed to be on good terms with their relatives. He didn't know about the hurtful things that went on behind closed doors.

"I'm really worried about the two of them," Leanne confessed, "They just saw each other as a convenient outlet for their frustrations, but once they cool off, they're not going to know how to deal with it."

"Don't say that," Pater tried to be reassuring, "I'm sure they'll work it out soon."

"_You_ don't have to live with them until they do," Leanne grumbled under her breath probably unaware that Pater could hear her. Out loud she said, "Zephyr holds grudges and Vashyron's too proud to make the first move. I can usually get them to make up over small things, but this is…"

"Too big for you to handle?" Pater suggested calmly. She nodded miserably. He could see that she wanted to mediate between them so that things could be resolved faster, but didn't know how. It didn't seem possible without intruding on the bond that the two had built and maintained on their own.

"I don't want to meddle in their affairs," Leanne's voice was wistful, "I was…alone before I met Zephyr, and when I moved in, it was clear that he and Vashyron already had something…something, I could never understand, or be a part of. None of us talk about the past, but it's clear that there was _something_ in that year before I joined them that connects them." Pater wasn't sure he followed. Leanne just kept talking.

"Last year, there was this day. Zephyr refused to talk to anyone or even leave his room. I wanted to help, but Vashyron told me to leave him alone, that prodding him was like playing with fire, but then _he_ spent the whole day fanning the flames. I asked him if he knew why Zephyr was so upset and he nodded. He said that Zephyr would have to tell me himself when he's ready and refused to say anymore."

"Everyone has their secrets," Pater offered. He had a couple of his own that he didn't particularly care to share. And he was sure Leanne had hers, what with her, a young beautiful woman, earning her keep as a hunter. Even with all of his sources, there was very little Pater actually knew about her.

"I know. I'm not usually like this," Leanne sighed and curled her knees to her chest, "I must sound so pathetic. They took me in when I had nowhere to go, taught me how to fight, and here I am, unsatisfied with it all."

"You're not pathetic, Miss Leanne," Pater quickly blurted out. If she was pathetic, what did that make him?

"Thank you," she whispered, "You're a really good person, Cardinal. I don't think I've ever felt so comfortable talking to someone like this. Can I confess something to you?" Pater gave her an odd look. He hoped his face didn't reveal the excitement bursting within him. Despite the seriousness of the situation, this was like something out of a dream for him. She was _comfortable_ talking to him. How did this work in books and movies? He had to be cool about it. She was very likely to fold if he jumped the gun on this development.

"Of course!" He could only hope he didn't sound as eager as he felt.

"Okay…the thing is…I'm an ignorant person."

"Um…I don't think that's really your fault though." He didn't mean to say that. It took Leanne a lot of courage to talk to him in the first place, but that wasn't really what he expected, especially after her lament on Vashyron and Zephyr locking her out of a loop. But that wasn't really his business.

"It is," she retorted softly, "I've told you about trying to help Zephyr when he was upset, and trying to wedge between him and Vashyron but…I've been a terrible friend to Vashyron.

"The truth is I know he was drinking last night too. And not just last night. He thinks he's really quiet but the walls in Sweet Home are pretty thin so I can sometimes hear him wake up and fumble with the lock on his closet. We all have our share of rough nights, but it sometimes seems that Vashyron has it the worst. He used to be a soldier and I heard that soldiers sometimes have that past tragic stress—

"Post traumatic stress."

"Yes, that. But he's always so cheerful that I never brought it up. I don't think he knows that I know and just pretends it doesn't exist. And I guess I've been pretending it doesn't exist either." A heavy silence settled in the parlor.

"I don't think he wants to worry you."

"I know that."

"Men don't like to appear weak if front of others, especially those they care about."

"I know that too."

"I think he would have just ducked out of the conversation if you said something."

"Well he shouldn't! He acts like he's always on top of things, like he always has the answer, and is this perfect adult when in reality—

"No one's perfect."

"Exactly!" Leanne sat up, a spark lit in her eyes about to turn into a flame of life. "And the worst part is when I saw him so miserable this morning, a part of me was angry at him that he would let himself fall so low. That he _wasn't_ Mr. Perfect-One-Man-Show. And when he was yelling at Zephyr, I wanted to blame him too. If Zephyr hadn't started fighting back, _I_ would have." There it was, Pater guessed, the _real _source of Leanne's source of melancholy. It wasn't that their mission took a bad turn or that Zephyr got hurt on her watch. It was that Vashyron wasn't there because of his own doing and Leanne couldn't reconcile the part of her that admired him as an infallible hunter with the part that cared about him as a person and was aware of his faults. She didn't need Pater pointing it out. She already realized that and couldn't forgive herself for it. She blamed herself for what happened to avoid blaming someone else.

"I just don't know what to do," Leanne finished quietly, "Vashyron does so much for us. I never realized how much I took him for granted."

"I don't think there's anything you can do," Pater said simply, causing her to look up at him in alarm. "Ah that didn't come out right, but I think your already doing the best thing you can for him."

"I am?"

"Not everyone can just talk about their troubles. You're not judging him. You just being there and accepting him as he is should be enough."

"But doesn't he trust m—_us_?" Leanne was quick to amend her words.

"He trusts you to watch his back. What more can you want?" Leanne considered this seriously. After a moment, she sighed happily.

"Yeah, you're right." Pater wanted to say more. He wanted to tell her that her smile could make anyone forget their troubles, but that sounded too embarrassing in his head to even warrant speech. But he still felt he had to say something more. Anything

However, while Pater struggled to keep their conversation going, Leanne reached for her jacket, sliding it on in one swift motion, and carefully buttoning it up. "I should head back," she said, "It's getting late, and I'm worried about Zephyr being home alone." Her voice was laced with guilt. As she walked to the front door to retrieve her boots, she suddenly froze and pulled out a small device from her pocket.

"What's that?" Pater asked.

"Oh! The camera," she exclaimed, "Oh no! I completely forgot to report to Cardinal Barbarella." She panicked for a second but recomposed herself almost as quickly, "The level 2 elevator isn't that far, I may as well head on up and deliver the evidence."

"Would you like me to call and tell her you're on your way?"

"No, its better that you don't. Old trade secret: clients are less likely to send you away when you show up unexpected." Pater didn't say anything more, though he did allow himself to wonder. He supposed it did hold a ring of truth to it. He certainly wouldn't send away someone who had gone through the trouble of coming to him.

"Would you like me to go with you? Or at least walk you to the e-elevator?" Ah, he was starting to stammer again. If the two of them were alone together for that, would it count as something? Did _this_ count as something?

"No that's alright. I've intruded upon enough of your evening," with her boots securely fastened, and the camera stowed away in her coat again, Leanne turned to him, a beautiful smile on her face. Her eyes were still a little red, but there was definitely a new glow to her, as if the weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders. "Thank you so much for everything, Cardinal." She bowed before him, not unlike no many others on a daily basis. Yet this upset him a bit. It was as if they had just made some progress in their friendship, only for the distance to resurface.

"Anytime, Miss Leanne," Pater didn't let that bother him though, "Would…would it be alright for me to stop by tomorrow? To see Zephyr, I mean."

"I don't think it would be a problem," she replied, "I'm sure he'd like that."

"See you tomorrow then, Miss Leanne."

"Yes, good night Car—Pater." Pater blinked. Or maybe the distance really was closing.

* * *

"You _will_ remember what I said?" Theresa called as Vashyron walked down the stairs of her front entrance, back turned.

"Yes, of course. Thank you for hearing this fool out, Theresa," he joked. Theresa just shook her head at him.

"Don't thank me yet, I expect a nice discount the next time I hire you."

"You wound me." Vashyron replied dramatically, moving his hand over his heart as he turned, putting on the best hurt face he could. It was the game they played. Theresa had racked up quite a few discounts from him, but she had yet to actually use them. In time though…

"You'll survive. Good night Vashyron. Send my greetings to your employees as well."

"Good night, my lady," Vashyron stopped to bow deeply, a courtesy he rarely extended to the other Cardinals unless the fate of a job called for it. How ironic it was that the one person he respected enough to lower his head to was the one person who did not want such formalities from him. Theresa just shook her head at him again and turned around, retreating into her mansion. The doorman closed the door behind her and took his post in front of it. Vashyron continued on his way.

He knew he had to return to Sweet Home, but there was one other place he had to stop at first. With the evening's excitement (for lack of a better word), he let himself forget that their job was still unfinished. Since she was only an elevator ride away, he figured he could make the report himself. It wasn't like anyone was waiting for him to come home.

Vashyron didn't really know how to explain the incident. He would have to omit Zephyr's blindness since that didn't matter to her but he would have to reveal the damage to the Chemist's closet and the destruction of the evidence. That would come out of their pay for sure. _I'll_ _have to double up to make up the difference,_ Vashyron thought in frustration, _while Zephyr's out, I should stick to deliveries mostly, though if Barbarella needs a handyman to repair that cave, I could probably do that._ He would have to conserve ammo too. And sell off the better meats. _Maybe I could get a job as that woman's meat supplier._ _Now there would be a job to pay the bills._

Vashyron let himself quietly fantasize the job offer. Barbarella's meat supplier...that job had shown up at the guild before, and it had paid pretty well. As long as he wasn't going to think about the fact that he stole Barbarella's vintage wine, destroyed the evidence of rebel activity in her Canyon and wrecked the entrance to its pharmacy, he could think of the rubies he would make by feeding her endless meat craving. It was a nice dream.

It was so nice that, when he reached the gate to Barbarella's manor, he almost didn't recognize the figure coming towards him, away from the house. She caught sight of him first. "Vashyron?" Leanne frowned when she saw him, effectively killing Vashyron's mood. "What are you doing here?" There was no anger in her voice. She sounded uneasy, but that was not _too_ different from how she normally talked.

"I was going to report to Barbarella," he explained, sure to keep his voice calm, unwilling to upset Leanne again. "I see we had the same idea."

"Yeah, I guess so." Her reply was tense.

"How did it go?"

"I explained the situation to her doorman and gave him the film from the camera. He promised that someone would call Sweet Home in the morning, to discuss the payment, since he wasn't sure if he could give the full pay under the circumstances. I'm sorry; I don't really know how to negotiate payments."

"Its fine," Vashyron was grateful for that. Leanne didn't have the businessman's drive and could easily settle for less than they deserved. He didn't say that though. "Good work."

"Thanks." They began to walk to the elevator in silence; Leanne fumbled with her gloves, while Vashyron just stared straight ahead. It was easy to discuss his plans with Theresa, but it wasn't easy to execute them. Did he just come out and apologize or bring up the topic first? Did Leanne even want to hear it?

Unknown to him, Leanne struggled with the same dilemma. She knew she needed to apologize, but how did one do that in this situation? Vashyron wasn't even looking at her. They were two people, walking through Chandelier at night beside each other, yet miles apart. It was maddening.

The silence persisted up until they boarded the Core Lift. It wasn't until the elevator began its descent that Leanne finally spoke,

"Vashyron."

"Hm?"

"I…um…you see…the thing is…" her face heated up as she struggled with the words. Vashyron just looked in some direction. He didn't say anything. Leanne sighed and took a deep breath. "I know you were drinking last night." There she said it. She probably shouldn't have, but she didn't know how else to get his attention. It worked. He turned to her, with a rueful smile.

"So…wanna yell at me too?"

"What? No!" She wasn't going to back down. At her sides, her hands clenched into fists. "It's not just last night. I know that you sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and reach for the liquor. You try to be quiet, but the walls are really thin!"

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you with that." There was a sharp defensiveness in his voice. Leanne had to make her point quicker.

"No! You should wake me up. You should come straight into my room and bang pots and pans if neces—okay don't do that, we might scare the neighbors, but you shouldn't suffer through your most dramatic stress—

"Post traumatic stress?"

"Again?" Vashyron raised a brow in confusion. "Sorry, forget it. But you shouldn't suffer through it alone. I…" she looked Vashyron directly in the eye. "I am only one door away. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but you don't have to pretend that nothing bothers you. You don't have to be perfect all the time." There she said it. She broke her gaze as she felt her face heat up in embarrassment. _I wonder, am I saying that to him or myself?_

Moments passed. Vashyron didn't say anything. The only sound between them was the gears squeaking as the elevator descended. Finally Vashyron sighed, suppressing a chuckle.

"I'm just such an idiot." He reached out to ruffle her hair. She swerved around, red as a tomato. "If both of you are telling me the same thing, it must be true."

"Both?"

"Don't worry about it." He stood up straight, taking on a serious expression again, "Thanks Leanne. I needed to hear that. Really."

"Then—

"I'm probably not going to wake you up by banging pots and pans together. That's your forte," she stuck her tongue out in protest, "But I'll definitely keep your words in mind."

Some more silence passed between them before Vashyron added, "I know that you have your share of rough nights too. I don't appreciate loud banging noises, but if you want to wake me up quietly…" He gestured a "go-ahead" with his hand. Leanne frowned.

"You…know about those?"

"The walls _are _thin." She considered it.

"You don't have to be perfect all the time either," he added softly.

"When am I ever perfect?"

"I mean that you don't have to act like everything's okay either. Follow Zephyr's example. If you're happy, laugh. It you're sad, cry. If you're mad, go beat the stuffing out of the dolls at the arena." Leanne laughed at this.

"My, I never thought I'd actually hear you use Zephyr as a _good_ example." She joked, feeling that old sense of familiarity returning.

"What can I say? Kid has his charm. That's why I keep him."

They were okay.

When the Core Lift reached Level 4, the two were laughing like old friends who hadn't had such a stressful evening between them. As they approached Sweet Home though, the mood faded. "Leanne," Vashyron called to her before she could open the door. "I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

"About earlier. I shouldn't have blown up at you two the way I did. Your performance today may have been below our usual standard but you completed the most important part without fail."

"We did?"

"You came back alive. At the end of the day, that's all that matters."

"Vashyron," she smiled softly.

"Hey, I'm not done. Let me have my sappy moment now," he cleared his throat, "To be honest, I don't know if I drank too much last night. It doesn't really matter at this point. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you guys needed me, but you survived and came home to tell the tale. I do care about you both. Don't forget that."

"I never doubted it," Leanne looked upwards, "I'm sorry too."

"Apologies accepted., deal?"

"Deal," she placed a hand on the door, "You and Zephyr will be okay, right?"

"Of course," Vashyron replied, "Don't worry Leanne. His bark is really nothing compared to his bite." Leanne smiled. The door to Sweet Home opened with a welcoming creak.

* * *

******(I hope my comma use improved!)**

**Part 4 will be uploaded sometime after August 10th. However, I warn in advance that there may be a delay because it probably needs to be rewritten from scratch to fit in with this chapter...*Sigh***


	4. Zephyr

**Alright, this is the last part. ^^ I'm very grateful for the reviews, faves and alerts this story has gotten, and I hope this last chapter doesn't disappoint. I ended up keeping about 4 pages worth of text from the original draft so this actually took _less_ time than I thought it would...That's good I guess, since I'm eager to get back to the other story I'm writing. ^^"**

**Please enjoy the final chapter of "Blind."**

* * *

**Part 4: -Zephyr-**

Blindness sucked. There was really no other word Zephyr could think of to describe his predicament. It made even the most familiar area, an unknown labyrinth, and after his third time tripping over the table in his room, Zephyr found himself unable to trust even the clearest image in his head. Had his room always consisted only of a bed and a small table and chair? He wasn't so sure anymore. He didn't dare leave his room by himself in fear of falling over the railing, through the sunroof (despite Leanne's assurance that it was closed), or down the stairs. Pain didn't scare him. If he could somehow break his wrist or ankle or something in the fall, he'd at least have a welcome distraction from the burning itch on his face, but he didn't have that kind of luck. No; the only damage Zephyr could do himself in his blind clumsiness would be bruising his pride. The repercussions of that were not worth the effort.

It made every sound louder and every smell sharper. The mechanized turning of the gears, a sound that every child in Basel learned to ignore early on, was suddenly so loud and pronounced that Zephyr began to actually really notice them. He never knew that the gears in Ebel were slower and lower in pitch than the ones in Cranktown…he never particularly cared either. The sound was rhythmic, and were it its usual background volume, Zephyr could have found it somewhat soothing. But as it were, the grinding was so loud and irritating that it gave him a headache.

A headache that wasn't helped by the pain caused by the burns around his eyes. Every now and then, Zephyr found his hand reaching for the injury, eager to sooth it even a little by rubbing against the bandages, despite the futility of the act. And every time his hand made its attempt, a soft warm hand yanked it away.

"Stop it," Leanne warned authoritatively. She was lucky. Zephyr would have snapped at anyone else at best, and twisted their arm at worst for touching him. He didn't like it when he could see it coming; he despised it when he couldn't. But he couldn't react violently to Leanne. With her, he just freed his arm and crossed his arms before retreating further into the side of the couch.

He could feel Leanne's pitying eyes on him once again, further worsening his mood. Why did it have to be her stuck in the house with him? Zephyr knew the answer to that well enough, but it didn't mean he accepted it. Vashyron would have just tied his arms behind his back and left him to rot in his room. Leanne smacked Zephyr for suggesting it. No, she insisted he come down to the living room, and get comfortable on the couch; maybe listen to the TV or radio. "Everything's a short distance away," she explained, "You wont have far to walk if you want to go to the bathroom or kitchen." He didn't have the energy to complain then. Hardly getting any sleep from the noise and the pain, and then having to endure the doctor's prodding and Pater's well meant visit left him with no desire to say or do anything. (Though he did find himself wondering how Pater knew about his injury…was there a camera in the house?)

Leanne seemed to think his reticence was sulking. She spent most of the day hovering over him, trying to keep him sufficiently entertained and distracted from the pain. The painkiller Vashyron left him wore off hours ago and Leanne didn't know where to get another. Zephyr wasn't surprised. Vashyron was a man who kept loaded guns, grenades and unstable teenagers in his house. The last thing he needed was easily accessible illegally obtained prescription drugs (courtesy of a "friend" in the black market). Zephyr wasn't even sure what Vashyron did with the cold medicine they had retrieved that one time. There had been plenty left over in the end, and it seemed to just disappear (not that Zephyr had given it any thought before either).

Maybe it was the absence of the painkiller that was making Zephyr so irritable. He knew he was never _not_ irritable, but he never felt so close to lashing out at Leanne before. At Vashyron: sure, he was the designated punching bag; at someone who looked at him funny: if Vashyron didn't diffuse the situation in time, easily. At Leanne…Zephyr was well aware that he lacked a working brain to mouth filter. He generally said what he felt, regardless of circumstances. Some people were okay with that: Pater liked him for his honesty, brutal and thoughtless as it was. Some…weren't: Vashyron still refused to let him talk in front of clients, especially the ones in Chandelier (and he still wasn't allowed to badmouth them behind their backs either).

With Leanne though…with her, he didn't want to be his usual crude and juvenile self. He could tease her and mock her in good fun, but the thought of unleashing his temper at her terrified him. She didn't know and didn't need to know just who her savior was. Zephyr needed her to continue being the kind naïve dependent girl he saved that Christmas night. Around her he could act like the innocent boy he once might have been long, long ago. He couldn't bear to open his mouth and poison her with his venomous tongue and destroy the only light left for him.

…But if she continued to hover over him like a nurse caring for an invalid, they were really going to have a problem.

Despite his blindness, and slight clumsiness, he was still capable of taking care of himself. What he got was Leanne literally babysitting him and nervously offering to help with everything from eating to walking. The worst part was that the pitying stare. Zephyr didn't need to see to know it was there. He could feel it, making him nervous and angry.

"Stop staring at me," he hissed.

"How bad is the pain right now?" Leanne voice was dripping with concern, "If it's really that bad, I could go out and get something."

"I'm fine. Just leave me alone." Leanne made a small squeaking sound as if debating whether or not to say anything else, and ultimately choosing not to. She had been like that all day.

_Now there's someone who could stand to relax her brain to mouth filter_, Zephyr thought sarcastically, _You want to say something. Stop stalling and say it._ He tried to pry it out of her earlier, which only made her defensively deny everything. It didn't make her stop occasionally "um"ing and try starting up conversations only to change her mind.

When he was sure that her eyes were off of him at last, he found himself relaxing just a little. It wouldn't last long, since history would just repeat again when he tried to pick at his bandages, but it was still a nice reprieve. Surely there was something Leanne could occupy herself with. He wouldn't even care if she decided to watch some boring melodrama at this point.

"Vashyron's late," Leanne suddenly broke the silence. She had said it to herself with a touch of irritation, but Zephyr couldn't help interjecting,

"Clean-up takes a long time. And Le Chit-Chat Noir is on the way back."

"Don't." He heard Leanne stand up and walk towards the front door. She probably wasn't going anywhere—if she could bear to leave Zephyr alone she would have been out there helping Vashyron clean up the mess they made.

"You wanted to know why he's late; I gave you an ans—ow." She had walked up behind him and lightly smacked his head. It wasn't like the hard "Are you an idiot?"-smack she gave him in the morning. It was just her open palm gently connecting with the back of his head. It went against her principles to attack an injured man…she apologized profusely for the first smack too.

"Just stop it." There was that wistful tone that always seemed to appear when their conversation turned to Vashyron. Zephyr was pleasantly surprised when Leanne didn't nag him over his behavior the previous night. He didn't really regret his words…maybe the way he said, but he didn't say anything that wasn't true…maybe. If Vashyron was upset with him he wasn't showing it. Their brief interaction that morning didn't have a touch of tension.

"Even if he stops by the bar, it's not like he hasn't earned it. He's helping with the clean-up for free."

"He agreed to it."

"Because the alternative was a severely docked paycheck for our failure."

"And that alternative doesn't sound so bad."

"No it doesn't," Leanne agreed icily, "except doctor's fees, especially when their impromptu early morning house calls, aren't cheap." Zephyr frowned. No one told Vashyron to make it a house call. It turned out to be pointless either way. All the doctor did was praise Vashyron's bandage work, confirm that the blindness would clear up in another day or so, and bandage the unattended cut on his arm. He wasn't as rough as Vashyron had been when changing the bandages, but his touch was unfamiliar and unpleasant.

"And don't start saying we shouldn't have bothered; it was necessary and you know it." She sat down next to him again. "You didn't see how relieved Vashyron and I were."

"You mean, how relieved _you_ were."

"No, I don't."

It was at this point that Zephyr decided that their conversation was going to head into an uncomfortable territory. "I'm going to bed," he announced, getting up and carefully making his way for the stairs. Leanne was right behind him. "I can manage by myself," he told her, but didn't protest her following him all the way to his room, flicking the light on when she entered. She mostly stood to the side as Zephyr felt his way around, wincing slightly as he somehow managed to walk into his table for the fourth time that day.

"You'd think you had a better grasp of your own room's layout," she mused innocently when he finally found his bed.

"I'm not used to such darkness," he retorted, "I have good night vision, remember."

"Yes, yes, Mister Good-in-the-Dark, who could forget," she paused, "But there's hardly anything in here for you to trip over in the first place. Don't you own anything besides your scriptures?" He immediately thought of her room with its large wardrobe and colorful posters along the wall. Her room actually looked lived in.

"I like it this way." Zephyr leaned again the wall. The gears were louder now, further thinning his patience. Leanne didn't press the subject any more, fortunately.

"If you're going to sleep, I should probably change your bandages first."

Zephyr cringed. "Do you even know how?"

"Yes! Vashyron gave me a crash course last night" she insisted, despite not sounding too confident herself, "He told me to change them for you if he wasn't around. I practiced on him, so I should be fine." Well there was a "fun" mental image; Vashyron on a chair, and Leanne blinding him. There was a word that Vashyron liked to use for these situations…_I think it starts with "k". _

While Leanne went downstairs for the first aid kit, Zephyr began unwinding the bandages around his head. He bit his lip to avoid groaning as his injury was exposed to the air, and slowly opened his eyes. He… had to check.

Darkness. Not even shadows. Zephyr should have expected it, but disappointment still set in. It must have really showed on his face, for Leanne's first word upon re-entering was a sad quiet, "Sorry." She knew right away.

"Just hurry up," he grumbled. Leanne placed the first aid kit down on the bed and set to work.

Zephyr did trust Leanne to know what she was doing; she was a fast learner after all. However, her touch sent him recoiling. She tried to be gentle; her hand barely touched him as she covered the burns with cooling salve, but the area was too sensitive to take much abuse. Zephyr suddenly wished it were Vashyron doing it instead. When he did it, he knew exactly what he was doing. He was a lot more forceful, but he knew just how much cream to put on so that he only had to trace the area once and have it all evened out (and considering he could do it while seething, was really impressive). Leanne…didn't. It took her a while to smooth out the cooling salve, and that required her to continuously trace certain areas. Zephyr kept flinching, and she kept apologizing and jumping back. But Leanne's soft touch was still preferable to the doctor's cold unfamiliar hands.

She was much better at wrapping the bandage. It sat a little looser than the previous one; loose enough to be unintentionally shifted in sleep, but Zephyr decided it was better not to complain. She'd probably have to start over, if he did.

"There," she let out a deep breath when she finally finished, "Now make sure you don't touch it."

"I won't."

"I mean it."

"Me too. Thanks."

"Oh uh, you're welcome, I guess." Leanne was probably blushing and smiling at him. Zephyr made a note to thank her again after his sight returned, so that he could witness it. It was funny how much he missed it, even though he didn't dedicate poetry to it the way Pater did.

"I guess, I'll leave you to sleep then. Good night."

"Night Leanne," he replied, carefully sliding under his blanket.

"Good night," she repeated and walked a few steps before stopping, "Listen, Zephyr, Vashyron told me not to say anything to you but, he really is hurt." Huh? Zephyr looked up. "What you said last night…he knows you didn't mean it, but it's not easy for him to just pretend it didn't happen." She paused, as if she were unsure if she should continue, but Zephyr wasn't letting her off anymore.

"What? Just go ahead and say it already."

"F-fine. You and Vashyron may have some sort of bond that transcends ordinary friendship, but you can't just expect it to shine forever. It's…like Basel. It's built to last, but it still needs to be maintained or it'll break down. So make sure you do that." She didn't wait to hear Zephyr's response. She just shut the door quietly and ran off, leaving Zephyr with a lot to think about.

She had her point, strange as her metaphor was, but there was one thing she got wrong. He and Vashyron weren't "friends." They were partners, linked by a crime against God. They stuck together because there was no one else who understood or accepted what they witnessed.

And yet, Zephyr couldn't remember at what point he started thinking of Vashyron as more than his parole officer. At some point he had grown used to being in the ex-soldier's company and had begun to care about his opinion. It was just him getting used to the man's presence either; he actually cared. Their fights did bother him. He didn't regret most of his more reckless actions, but he did hate the disappointment in Vashyron's eyes every time he messed up. Was that why he let himself lose it yesterday? He only heard anger, so he reacted with anger. He just wanted Vashyron to shut up and feel bad, and he succeeded.

Zephyr decided he preferred messing up instead.

Sleep did not come easily to Zephyr, despite his exhaustion. The gears were turning, his eyes were itching, and Leanne's strange analogy crammed his brain with more thought than he was used to dealing with on a good day. It all made his head hurt. Was this how Vashyron felt yesterday?

Zephyr sighed. _Leanne's right. I really went too far last night._

If Vashyron really was that upset with him, he probably wouldn't willingly check in on him if he was awake. They both knew each other well enough to stay away during their fights. But if Zephyr was asleep, and Leanne played her cards right (as Zephyr suspected she would)…

Zephyr had long ago mastered the art of fake sleep, well enough to fool Vashyron, who was trained to catch that sort of thing. His injury ironically made things easier since the slow even breaths required to fool the professional were actually helpful in keeping Zephyr's mind off the itching. Eventually he heard the front door open. Leanne, who had turned on the TV after leaving him to sleep, had instantly engaged Vashyron in some conversation though Zephyr could only make out some muffled words. They were purposely keeping their voices low.

He perked up when he heard heavy steps make their way up the stairs and into his room. So Leanne did act as he'd predicted. He heard Vashyron walk in and stop in front of him for a few moments. Zephyr didn't drop his act though until after he heard Vashyron start walking away.

"Vashyron." He said simply, causing the man to stop.

"Still awake? What's wrong?" Vashyron sounded nervous, like a kid at the seminary who had been caught outside the sleeproom after hours.

"Can you fix the bandage? It's loose." That hadn't been what he wanted to say at all, but it kept Vashyron from leaving. Vashyron approached as Zephyr sat up. He sat down at the edge of the bed and traced the side of the bandage, shifting it slightly.

"Damn, I really thought Leanne had gotten the hang of it. She was much better in our practice session."

"Her test subject didn't flinch at every touch."

"Fair enough," Vashyron sighed, "I can't just fix it though; I'm going to need to redo it, and that means reapplying the cream."

"Do it." Inwardly Zephyr cringed at the idea of going through that again, but he wasn't going to complain. "Please?"

"Did you just…yeah, sure. Hang tight; I'll go get the stuff." Vashyron practically tripped over himself as he got up, but his gait was even. Vashyron didn't loose his composure that easily…when not around buxom women anyway.

He came back fairly quickly, turning on the light as he re-entered, in time for Zephyr to slide the old bandage right off. "Way too loose," Vashyron observed. He didn't start right away though. Instead he pinned down both of Zephyr's wrists to the bed with one hand.

"What are you doing?" Zephyr exclaimed alarmed. This was a bad idea. Where was Leanne?

"I'll need to check your eyes before we start."

"Didn't Leanne tell you? I still can't see anything."

"Just open your eyes and let me see."

Zephyr reluctantly did so, biting his lip at the wave of pain that shot off his face when he did. To his surprise, the blackness around him briefly turned to a very dark grey for a moment. When it went back to black though, he closed his eyes, fighting against Vashyron's grip as he tried to press his hands against the pain. He was met with a cold wet cloth for his trouble, though that arguably felt even better. Vashyron let go his wrists shortly after.

"Good news, there was some dilation just now. Did anything look different to you?"

"Yeah, I think I saw a shadow," Zephyr tried to hold back the excitement in his voice, "No I'm sure I saw it." He removed the cloth and forced his eyes open again. Yes there was a shadow...Zephyr was sure it was supposed to be Vashyron he was seeing but it was just a dark blob against a darker background. But it was still something!

Vashyron quickly burst his bubble though. "Alright, don't strain yourself, now. I'm going to apply the cooling salve so I'll need both hands and some cooperation. Clutch your pillow if you want, but keep your limbs out of my way."

"I can handle it. Just hurry up." Vashyron cupped Zephyr's chin with one hand to keep his head steady, while the other hand quickly rubbed on the balm. Like Zephyr thought, it was much faster when Vashyron did it. His right hand kept Zephyr from ducking while his left ran across Zephyr's eyes leaving a cold sting in its wake. "You're a lot more cooperative tonight," Vashyron remarked when he was done.

"I'm a lot saner too." Zephyr never joked about his sanity, but they were both treading on thin lines around each other tonight weren't they?

"Good to know; I'll sleep with both eyes closed then." He started wrapping the bandage, tighter than Leanne's work, but not too tight, to avoid applying pressure to the eye. "How this?" he asked after two wraps around.

"Better."

"Okay." He continued wrapping in silence. When he was done he tested it by trying to shift it. It didn't move. "That should do for the night. Will that be all then?" He was eager to leave.

"Wait, no, can I get another painkiller?"

"Oh yeah, sure," Vashyron pressed a small round tablet into Zephyr's palm which he quickly swallowed.

"It feels different than the one from last night." The only last night was larger and heavier.

"It _is_ different. The stuff I gave you yesterday was heavy-duty prescription stuff. I picked this one up at the Chemist's Closet during clean-up. It's a little weaker but you won't get addicted to it." But would it provide the same relief as the other pill? No, Zephyr was going to argue now. He still had to apologize!

"How is the clean-up anyway?" And he still couldn't find the right words for the job.

"Nice and dull, as expected," Vashyron grumbled, "And free."

"You didn't have to volunteer."

"Believe me, I didn't. I volunteered _you_…but until your sight returns I'm stuck covering for you. You're welcome."

"What? Don't volunteer me for free jobs!"

"Then don't screw up paying ones. You should thank Theresa we even got anything resolved with Barbarella. Apparently, she mediated on your behalf." Zephyr scowled.

"Does everyone in Chandelier know I'm blind now?"

"Just Theresa, Barbarella and Pater…though I'm not really sure how he knows. I'm seriously starting to think he has a camera in here."

"I'll have to ask him next time. I have my own suspicions." Vashyron laughed at this and Zephyr couldn't help but smile too. They were starting to joke around like old times. But there was still a wall between them; he could feel it. No more stalling…He had to say it.

"Hey Vashyron…"

"Yeah?"

"Um…about last night…" This was…_difficult_. "Thanks."

"Huh?" Now Vashyron was really thrown off. He probably had some sort of over the top comical reaction and everything.

"I mean it," Leanne's strange metaphor echoed inside him, "Thanks for taking care of me, even though I'm such an ass."

"Okay, that's it. No more drugs for you. They're messing with your head."

"They're not!" They probably were. Zephyr never felt so meek when he was off of them. "Can't I just be grateful to you?"

"Not really. You're going to make me paranoid."

"Vashyron!"

"Relax, that was a joke," Vashyron sighed, "Look Zephyr, you really should get some sleep. You don't need to voice your gratitude. That wasn't the first night I've dealt with your attitude and I can tell you now, it wasn't the last. Believe it or not, I did know what I getting into when I took you in. I do miss the old days when it was just me, but I think I prefer the consistency you and Leanne provide. It's actually kinda fun with you kids around. Sometimes." Zephyr considered this. Every hateful thing he said was being cut to ribbons with those words.

"Now if you don't mind, I have another long _free_ day tomorrow, so I'm going to turn in. You can call me if you need me though. Our walls are thin apparently, so I'll hear you." Vashyron was just about to close the door behind him, when Zephyr suddenly said,

"Can you change my bandages in the morning? And nighttime? And whenever else?"

"Are you sure? Leanne needs the practice." Was that a joke?

"I'm sure."

"I don't know, Zephyr. Every time we do this, there's a chance you'll open your eyes and find that you could see clearly. You might just end up seeing my face."

"In that case," Zephyr tucked himself in and faced the wall. His face was heating up, and not from the burns, "I hope my sight returns soon."

For a moment there was silence. Then Vashyron's rigid posture softened.

"Yeah, me too Kid."

There was no tension in his voice.

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**The End.  
**

**Fun Fact: Vashyron's black market contact is apparently canon(ish). He shows up in the Secret Hours manga...while I highly doubt that story's canonity it does have some interesting ideas (and who knows, maybe I'll use Nero's family in a future fic).**

**I hope this story is okay the way it is. I'm sorry its not really an action story, but maybe next fic...If I haven't gushed about my love for RoF enough, I definitely want to add that it makes me want to step out of my writing comfort zone. I'm already experimenting with framing devices for my next story. That one will (probably) have more action.**

**Anyway, thank you all for reading. Until next fic.**


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